Auld Lang Syne
by Aisling Yinyr Ngaio
Summary: In which senior SHIELD agents are shameless gossips. Crackfic.


**_Auld Lang Syne_**  
_An Agents of SHIELD fanfic by Aisling Yinyr Ngaio  
_

* * *

It was Coulson's idea to celebrate Skye's graduation from liquid to solid foods with a "great escape" from the Hub's infirmary and head across the street to his favourite little diner. After all, it's the first time the team was there together without any pending missions (only May knew that it was because Coulson forcefully had their "leave" approved by Fury himself), and he felt like the team could use something fun after the weeks of bedside duty at the stifling Hub with "doctors swarming all over the place jabbing needles into me any time they like", in Skye's flattering words. She certainly appreciated the effort, and to his quiet delight, the ambiance, declaring the 60's style diner car "very you, A.C.", to nods and chatter between the junior agents as they bustled up to choose a spot and started moving tables to fit a group of six.

They were just settling down with menus and discussing over each other about possible orders when the door opened again, admitting two smartly dressed men into the premises. Coulson took one look at them and smiled. _Well that didn't take long_, was what he thought, but all he did was exchange a glance with May before heading towards the drinks counter with a "Be right back, guys."

Absorbed in their debate about the best food choices, none of them paid any attention as Coulson casually sauntered towards the men, hailing them as though they were meeting by coincidence, "Blake! And Sitwell too. Have you two become lunch buddies without me knowing?"

"Coulson," Blake acknowledged back, surly as ever. Beside him, Sitwell gave a nod and a smile in greeting. The newcomers both did a sweep of the premises, easily locating Coulson's table, right as he heard a half-strangled gasp preceding a tirade of furiously suppressed chatter behind him. Coulson smiled wryly just as Blake hemmed, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, "Well this certainly explains why the infirmary staff were so upset just now."

Sitwell tried to swallow a laugh as he added, "Your team has certainly made a name for yourselves, Coulson. Round-the-clock vigil over that hacker girl," Sitwell's renewed attention at his table brought forth another squeak - which Coulson was pretty sure had been accompanied by a desperate attempt by a certain agent to remain hidden as best she could - "breaking and entering into S.H.I.E.L.D. storage for unspecified reasons…" Sitwell was almost gleeful when he informed Coulson, "The cafeteria is absolutely abuzz every time you visit!"

Blake scoffed at Coulson's calm "Really? Interesting." by telling his fellow agent, "Please, that can only mean trouble for _you_, Coulson. Or are you really that certain that nobody would dare take your dream team away from you, even after this latest development?"

Coulson allowed Blake and Sitwell to order their drinks before giving a philosophical shrug and replied, "You do recall my answer the last time we met."

Blake, to his surprise, deliberately ran a finger across the side of the counter, looking at Coulson significantly. A pregnant pause ensued, with Sitwell completely nonplussed while the other two stared daggers at each other. Finally, Blake gave a victorious little smirk and said, "Oh yes, I do recall the last time we met."

Coulson narrowed his eyes, but only for a split second, and without dropping his pleasant demeanor, since Jasper Sitwell was still watching way too interestedly. It used to be that he would tie Blake in verbal knots together with Sitwell, but maybe he could still work with this. After all, despite his absence from central command after taking charge of the Bus, he was still in the business of information.

Fortunately for his timing, the ordered drinks were served on the counter right then, prompting him to remark, with false surprise, "Fetching your own coffee still, Blake? Didn't I hear you have an assistant now?" At Sitwell's sudden mocha-ladden coughing fit, he corrected himself to Blake's rapidly purpling face, "Oh I'm sorry, your _protegee_. What was her name again? Wise?"

Blake side-eyed Sitwell with a thunderous expression, who amusedly protested, "_I_ didn't tell him. We barely saw each other after New York!"

"Oh please, it's the _talk_ of the cafeteria," Coulson echoed back ironically with his trademark serene expression, earning another laugh-disguising snort from the bespectacled agent. Blake, to his credit, rallied rather well after a deep breath, and turning to Sitwell, said neutrally, "You'd certainly know all about that after getting the drop from a Level 5, don't you Sitwell?" At the masked look of consternation on his colleague's face, he deliberately turned and looked directly at Coulson's table, which was suddenly filled with fake conversation noises to cover up what Coulson was sure had been blatant staring just a moment ago.

He mentally rolled his eyes at his team as the straitlaced agent turned his attention back to their small circle. "Are you absolutely sure it was Agent Simmons over there who did it?" Blake asked a desperately impassive Sitwell. "Because she doesn't even seem to be the type to hold up well under pressure, so how did she manage to catch you off guard, Sitwell?"

Coulson would almost pity Sitwell if he wasn't looking forward to the answer as well; now that the unfortunate situation was months in hindsight he could better appreciate the humour in Sitwell being taken down by a panicked young agent with the absolute worst improvisation skills ever (he still cringed at the memory of their undercover train ride together). As it was, he allowed his companions to banter with each other while quietly polishing off his tiny pre-meal drink as he walked them to the door. The bickering duo only realised they were outside the diner when Coulson interrupted them mid-argument with, "Well, it's been a rare pleasure, but I have a lunch to get back to. I'll see you back at the Hub soon!" before turning and re-entering the premises.

"I swear, you guys are the _worst_ at undercover intelligence, ever," was his first remark as he approached his table again to five absolutely rapt faces. "And that includes you too, Ward."

Ward sputtered at the injustice of being at the table with three people who couldn't keep their fascination with Coulson's little meeting under wraps, while Skye asked urgently over her muttering S.O., "Tell me Agent Bald Guy asked for Simmons' number. He did, didn't he?"

Coulson raised an eyebrow when Simmons swatted Skye, with the young biochemist's face completely betraying her utter dread at his answer. He only held out for half a minute before putting her out of her misery and replied "no, he didn't", and was mildly amused when Fitz said "AH HA" really loudly and held his palm out to Skye, who after paying up, patted an utterly relieved Simmons and consoled, "Don't worry, I'm sure he will next time. He seems to like you well enough before you shot him." She paused and pretended to reconsider when Simmons jerked up in horror at the notion. "Well, maybe before the 'gorgeous head' compliment, but… yeah."

Over the renewed enthusiasm for lunch now that all the excitement had passed, May said in an aside to Coulson, "You brought up his protegee, didn't you?"

He gave a half-smile in return to his old co-conspirator as he wrote down his order and passed it along to Fitz. "How could I not? It was too good an opportunity to pass it up unremarked."

May only shook her head with a smile of her own, unnoticed by the younger adults. "That's the last time I'm ever going to fill you in on any blackmail material you've missed while in recovery."

_- Finis -_


End file.
